A Witch's Tale
by dessertwitch
Summary: Every heinous witch holds a story, a tale, of how they encountered Kyuubey, the sinful Incubator. How they lived throughout their lives as a Puella Magi. Of how they fell into despair, and transformed into a witch.


_GERTRUD_

_The Rose Garden Witch_

_The rose garden witch with a distrustful nature. She holds roses dearer than anything else. She expends all of her power for the sake of beautiful roses. Despite stealing the life-force of humans who wander into her barrier to give to her roses, she loathes the thought of them trampling the inside of her barrier._

_I was once a beautiful maiden, so beautiful my mother told me I had the charm of a white rose. I had white-blond hair, forest green eyes, and full, red lips. I was told that I was a perfect girl._

_I lived in a large mansion on the neat, elegant outskirts of a city. I lived with my mother and father, and we lived a lovely, prosper life. Our most artful piece of work was our garden, a colorful field with joyful colors. My father told me I looked like a queen while working in our garden._

_However, every beautiful flower wilts. They bloom into vibrant colors and then wilt into an ugly, dark brown color. I knew that as each day passed by, those horrid days are growing closer and closer. The fear of becoming old had grown steadily in my mind, until a kind, white cat came along. It stared at me with its eerie, pink eyes as it said:_

_"In exchange for your soul, I can grant any wish beyond your wildest dreams. I can even erase that fear of yours, if you wish to do so."_

_I did what pretty much every other young girl did and happily accepted his offer. I made a simple wish:_

_"I wish to remain young and beautiful forever."_

_Ever since then, my popularity and beauty had grown ever since I made the wish. My neighbors always noticed me as I walked down the street, and every now and then I would catch young men or women staring at me, as if they were in pure disbelief of my presence. I had this wonderful routine going for one or two years, until the end finally came._

_My mother had given birth to a baby girl, an infant given the name "Mariposa", Spanish for butterfly. A butterfly devours the flower, until it wilts. She wasn't bad at first, but soon once she was able to walk, she stole everything from me. People began to notice and admire her instead of me. My parents loved her more than me. Her beauty was greater than mine, and I cannot change that horrible fact._

_Soon I could not take it any longer. She had literally taken the one of the only pride I had of myself, my admiration and elegance. I had truly gone mad as a snatch a kitchen knife from the counter and walk slowly to the baby's room. I open the doors and anxiously raise the knife, however, as I am about to release my pain and anger, my dearest parents enter the room. My mother gasps and nearly faints, and my father twitches his neat mustache furiously in anger. They had just encountered their own daughter attempting to kill their other daughter. My father dashes towards me, grabs my knife, and tosses it aside. He hangs me by the collar and stares at my face. Without saying anything, he just simply opens the balcony door nearby, and tosses me out the patio._

_The last sight of my father for a while was a blurry sight of his mustache and red face. When he threw me from the window, I faced a major injury, which was a broken left arm. Instead of returning, I grab a cloth from our garden's shed and turn it into a cloak, and I cover myself in it. I now walked the streets, as a wilting blossom in disguise. I stole food and equipment for survival, such as a used pistol and a handful of apples on the street. I repeated this cycle for a few years, until..._

_I walk up a crowded street and notice, a happy couple with a joyful toddler in between. They seemed as if they held a decent amount of money, so I decided to pickpocket their cash. As soon as I walk near them, I reach my hand out, but we meet faces. They looked quite familiar, but I for some reason felt a feeling of hate towards them, but still felt heartwarming, until I realized, they were my OWN parents._

_It also takes them a minute to realize this, the fact that I am their daughter suddenly hits them in the face and their faces are covered with pure shock. My mother nearly faints, and my father, his eyes, instead of furious... They are starting to well with tears of happiness. He starts to apologize for his "mistake", he begs for me to return to our household, and start over. Although, I was completely ignoring him. I was completely focused on Mariposa, the girl who took everything from me..._

_I soon quickly grabbed my pistol, and fire it at her. Her blood splatters all over her lovely face, and I was finally satisfied. Everyone stared at me, the shopkeepers, the customers, even the few children who had just saw a girl die. I take off my cloak and reveal my messy face and hair, and I smile at them. I reply to all their shocked faces._

_"Have a nice day."_

_I was soon arrested of course, particularly for murdering someone, a toddler at the age of 6. I sit in my jail cell with no possible motive and way to escape the dirty, smelly stone that surrounds me. Every now and then a guard would walk by and shake their heads, as if they were saying "People these days."_

_Then, finally, a guard came over and slightly opened my cell, saying, "It says here that your parents gave you a parting gift, so, here it is." He hands me a large, white rose, freshly plucked from my garden... My garden. Oh, how I miss that place. I quickly open the small note attached to it, and it read:_

_Dear Former Daughter,_

_You are no longer our child._

_You are no longer part of our family._

_You deserved it._

_From,_

_Your Mother & Father_

_I clasp my hands onto my mouth, and slowly move them up to my eyes. I pour out my eyes for a few hours, and eventually calm myself. I take the rose and pluck of all the thorns, then I hold it close to me._

_Each day passes, and I still cry to this day. It's a wonder I'm still here, probably because of this rose of mine, the last flower I will ever see in my life. But every beautiful flower has an end... Of course, the white rose eventually wilted. WILTED._

_And so, I did the same._


End file.
